Golden
by popping-champagne
Summary: Oh yes, it was obvious: the boisterous boy had fallen for the quietest girl in Camelot.
1. Tongue Tied

Merlin had always had trouble when it came to girls.

With ears too big for his head, his awkward period lasted entirely too long for his liking. When it finally, _finally_ passed, though, well... He and Will terrorized the girls back home in Ealdor. His poor mother learned that when one of Merlin's stories started with, "Well, there was this girl..." it was simply time to give up. Whatever followed would be completely absurd. Really, for a while, Merlin's is main trouble was girls always got him into trouble.

In Camelot, it was a little different.

Between errands for Gaius, chores for Arthur, and generally fulfilling his destiny, he didn't have much time to _meet_ a girl, let alone pull her hair or drop worms down her dress. (He never claimed to be good with women. Just completely fascinated by them.) Oh sure, there were a few awfully pretty ladies in the lower parts of town surrounding the castle. He'd just never gotten the chance to talk to any of them.

Well. Aside from the girl Gaius bought all his plants from. Merlin harbored a bit of a soft spot for the shy blonde. Her shyness was the trouble in that case though; he knew nothing about her other than her looks and her ability to grow the best herbs in town. Not much to go off of.

Of course, Arthur falling in love every other week didn't help matters much. The prince was, as even Merlin would grudgingly agree, rather handsome, and usually got the girl until he got bored. Before that inevitable moment, though, he made absolutely sure to rub it in his servant's face. (Merlin hated cleaning the room after a lady spent the night. So of course, he had to do it. Every single time.)

Clotpole.

After a few weeks, torturing Merlin about his lack of a lady friend wasn't enough. Oh no. Arthur just _had_ to ask him about it.

"So how about it, Merlin? Got your eye on anyone?" He smirked.

His servant continued cleaning his chain mail, refusing to look at him. "Yes. I mean, no. No. I don't."

The smirk grew wider. This was one of Arthur's new favorite pastimes. "Who is she?"

"No one," Merlin grumbled.

"One of the girls in town?"

"Shut up."

"Is that any way to speak to a prince?" Arthur laughed. "You know, if you got a lady friend, I _might _give you some time off to see her. Have to make sure those ears pass on to another generation."

Merlin really, _really_ hated working for Prince Arthur every single day. So that night, he decided that maybe, he could ask the plant girl her name. Just her name. No big deal.

Until he discovered the next morning, picking up some more rosemary for Gaius, that shy girls turned him right back until that gawky thirteen-year-old with chicken legs and abnormally sized hands and feet. (And ears.) Or at least, that one in particular did.

The truly unfair part of it all was as soon as Merlin discovered he was just as awkward around her as she was around, well, everyone, (from what he could tell, anyway) he could not stop thinking about her. Honestly, it was ridiculous. The day Arthur had teased him, she was just niggling around in the back of his brain. Now, her bashful little smile was center stage. He hated it even more than he hated working for Arthur. And that was saying something.

Soon, it became glaringly obvious that the man destined to be the most powerful warlock alive was madly infatuated with someone. He had to save Arthur's life every other week, study up on magic while keeping it hidden, work for Gaius, keep up with his various friendships, among all sorts of other duties, and yet again, just like the gangly preteen wrecking havoc with Will, one of his biggest problems was girls.

Gwen was the first person to notice his attraction. (Though she pointed it out to Gaius, Morgana, and Arthur soon after, and they all were all deeply amused by it.) She found it rather cute, actually, the way the pair fumbled and blushed and grinned during their every interaction. Coming from the girl, this was no surprise; even Guinevere was unsure of her name. She was that quiet. Seeing Merlin like this, however, was new and unusual but very welcome. He usually talked himself into a very deep hole (or perhaps a grave). Maybe, hopefully, she'd rub off on him a little.

Finally, after solid a month of pining for her, a month of Arthur's relentless teasing, a month of Gaius sending him up to her stand as often as possible, a month of the girls trying to offer him advice, _finally__,_ he blurted out, "I'm Merlin."

"I'm Nora," she replied quietly, blushing as red as the roses she was selling.

His brain told him to make conversation, compliment her, maybe. (Girls liked that, right?) His body, however, had different plans. Its strategy was to barely manage to smile at her before hurrying away and cursing himself for complete and utter lack of charm.

Oh yes, it was obvious: the boisterous boy was smitten with the quietest girl in Camelot.

* * *

**A/N: Hi guys! This is my very first Merlin fanfiction. I'm very excited and also very, very nervous. If I make any sort of errors, feel free to point them out. I really dig constructive criticism. This takes place around the first or second season, but not everything will be canon, and not all things in the canon will be in here. I'd love to know your thoughts so please please review!**


	2. Coriaria Mrytifolia

The week after his botched introduction, Merlin spent at least two thirds of his time berating himself. Maybe even three fourths.

Passing by her stand now became a sweet torture, because she was still so pretty and she still smiled at him but he was _so_ sure she didn't mean it. In fact, when he tried to sleep at night, he mostly pondered what her opinion of him could possibly be. (It wasn't pleasant, and led to an awful lot of sleep deprivation and few very bad dreams.) While polishing Arthur's boots, he imagined other ways the conversation should've gone. (Suffice to say the prince was not pleased with this.) Now, instead of envisioning the way her blonde braid would feel between his fingers, he tried to figure out a way to come back from that disaster. It seemed utterly hopeless.

His friends simply found it ridiculous. Gwen and Morgana pleaded with him to just talk to the girl. Gaius sent him to fetch plants at least twice as much as usual. And Arthur was clearly punishing the boy by adding on even _more _chores. When Merlin wasn't going and getting Gaius a surplus of yarrow, he was mucking the stables, doing Arthur's laundry, cleaning his chainmail, shining his boots, the list went on and on. And today, he was gathering firewood, despite the weather being clear and almost warm.

The pleasant day made a good backdrop for his daydreaming as he chopped down a few trees. He'd always had a way of slipping into his mind and staying there for hours, particularly when he was doing something he didn't like. The urge to simply cast a spell to cut the wood for him was strong, but he knew what Gaius would do if he found out. Merlin had only been living with him a couple months, but already, the thought disappointing him filled the young warlock with a sense of dread much deeper than his dislike of physical chores.

"Aren't you the prince's servant?"

Merlin looked up, startled, at the man who spoke. He was scruffy but well built, almost as tall as Merlin himself. And he was smiling, so cautiously, Merlin nodded.

The man held out a handful of berries, dark and large like his pupils. "These are good for cooking with. My wife is allergic, but the prince might enjoy them."

"Thank you," Merlin said, taking the berries. They looked juicy and ripe, so Merlin brought one to his lips.

"No, no, no!" The man cried quickly before the younger one could eat. "No, the skin on them is bitter. They only taste good crushed. Like in soup. Maybe onion soup. Does the prince like that?"

Merlin nodded again. "Yes. I'll put some in his soup tonight. Thank you."

The man smiled, nodding at him, before turning around back into the woods.

It was a strange gesture, to be sure, Merlin thought as he went back to preparing the firewood. Arthur was so spoiled, he would only eat something prepared by the royal kitchens. Gaius, however... Gaius might enjoy a meal cooked by Merlin. In fact, it seemed like a great idea, especially since the young man had been so out of focus lately. A gift for Gaius.

* * *

"Dinner!" Merlin called.

Gaius smiled at him as he slowly made his way down the rickety stairs. "You really did cook, didn't you?"

"I really did," the young man beamed. "Come, sit, eat. I got bread too."

"Thank you, Merlin." Gaius truly looked pleased as he sat down. Merlin was like a puppy, watching his master prepare to throw a ball. He couldn't even eat until Gaius had sampled the soup.

Which turned out to be a good thing, because as soon as the physician swallowed, he fell to the ground, hard.

Merlin gasped and leaped from his seat. Hyperventilating just slightly, he checked for the old man's pulse. His breathing evened out some when he felt the steady thud of a heartbeat just below the skin. Gaius was still alive, but from his pallid face, clearly ill. It had to be the berries. That was the only thing different from the usual onion soup.

The warlock dug in his pockets until he found a single stray berry, still plump. There was no time to look it up in one of Gaius' many, many books. He would have to go to the one person in Camelot who knew about all things plants.

"Nora," he said breathlessly. He had ran straight from the citadel to her house, just behind the plant stand. "I need your help."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He held up the small black berry with shaking fingers. "What is this?"

"Fruit of the _coriaria mrytifolia_," she replied immediately, anxiously playing with the end of her braid. "A lesser known but fatal poison. Why?"

"Gaius just ate one."

Her blue eyes widened like dinner plates. "Come in, quickly. I'll give you what you need for the antidote."

Merlin did as she said, stepping into her tiny home. "How do you know the antidote?"

"My father is a physician back home. I watched him make this when my younger brother ate one."

He stood close to the door, biting his lip and twisting his hands as she collected a few herbs. Despite his anxiety, he couldn't help but study her little house. There wasn't much, just a bed and a table, but the plants everywhere made it seem cozy and alive. Vivid flowers in blue and red and purple, fresh spices, everything she sold and even more. The contained garden left her hands and dress perennially dirty, but the result was even more beautiful than the royal grounds. Merlin was in awe.

"Let's go see to him," Nora said briskly, pulling the young man out of his stupor. Her thin, warm smile suggested that she knew just exactly what he thought of the place, and she appreciated it.

Gaius was lucky. Coriaria was extremely deadly, yes, but also extremely easy to cure. That's why it wasn't often used. Nora simply had to crush a few leaves into a fine powder, mix this into some water, and have Gaius drink it. Within ten minutes, the old man's color was back. He would be fine by morning.

While Nora concocted the antidote, Merlin found himself babbling. He explained where he got the berries, why he'd used them, everything he could think of (though most of it wasn't very well thought out). It was slightly embarrassing. Yet encouraged by her smile, he invited her to stay for dinner.

"I don't want to impose," she told him softly.

"Nora, you just saved Gaius' life. I can share my bread with you. I _want _to."

A wide grin spread across her face before she could stop it, and just a bit too much gum appeared. "You're stubborn."

"I am. So looks like you have to say yes," he grinned back. It was ridiculous just how endearing he found that smile, even if it was too big for her face. Maybe even _because_ it was.

"Looks like I do."

He gestured for her to sit, and she did so with a surprising grace. Merlin had a sneaking suspicion that wherever she was from, she hadn't been raised as a peasant. There was a softness about her that many of the woman in the lower town did not possess.

"You said your father was a physician back home," Merlin said once he was seated. "Where is home?"

"Ailith. Near the edge of the kingdom," she told him quietly. Her eyes clouded subtly, but just enough for him to notice and worry.

He smiled softly in an attempt to cheer her up. "I'm from Ealdor."

"Where's that?" She asked. Her warm, curious tone proved that his efforts to lighten her mood had not been in vain.

"Essetir. Its a nice little village. Tiny, of course, and there's really nothing to do but farm but its... nice." Maybe it was the candles, but it seemed as if a blush dusted across his high cheekbones as his words ended abruptly.

"Why did you leave?"

This time, the words did not spill out of him. He had to choose very carefully how much he could reveal to Nora, even if she was kind. "It wasn't good for me there. Nobody really liked me, except for my mother and my best friend. I just... couldn't really be myself. It isn't much better here, but..."

"Well..." Nora bit her lip, scanning his face for something. Whatever she found there gave her enough courage to finish her thought. "I like you. And I don't see why anybody wouldn't."

It was no longer a trick of the candlelight. Merlin blushed and beamed, looking down at the table. If he would've looked up, he would've noticed that the girl he was madly infatuated with was wearing the exact same expression, both of them grinning like lovestruck fools.

* * *

**Thank you to my lovely reviewers, AUOverHere and gorgeousangel. I tried to pace this chapter a little slower, which resulted in me rewriting it three times. Oops. Thank goodness I absolutely adore it. But I love some more reviews even more, pretty please!**


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